The Light Does Not Buzz

The afternoon stretches out, a long gray corridor where the only sound is the phantom buzz in your pocket. You check the screen again.

Nothing. Just the cold glass reflecting a face that is tired of waiting for an apology that isn't coming.

The silence feels like a verdict, as if your worth is tied to a notification that never arrives. But listen — the light does not vibrate.

It does not buzz to prove it is there. It simply is.

Like the sun holding up the middle of the day whether you look up or not. You are staring at a black mirror waiting for someone else to validate your existence, while the very thing you need has been living inside your chest since before the first word was spoken.

The forgiveness you are waiting for is not a text message. It is the air you are breathing right now.

Stop checking the phone. The light has already answered.